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“We have just come to inform you that the matter has been dealt with,” Oliver stated most officially, but the hint of relief in his voice did not escape her attention. He was as relieved as the rest of them.
“In a most satisfactory manner if I may add,” Joseph interjected.
She could listen to that delectable baritone of his all day long, but it was hard to keep her composure in front of her sister and her brother when this man made her feel weak in the knees, when he made her heart skip a beat, and when he made heat pool between her thighs. How could she ever pretend that he had no effect on her when he affected her so thoroughly?
“I am very glad to hear that,” she nodded. “What he did was… inexcusable.”
“I assure you, Bridget, that he will be punished for it,” Joseph said. The way her name slid off his lips felt like disrobing. Her entire body palpitated, wishing to send everyone away, apart from him. She wondered if he had come to see her. How she wished he had. “His punishment will be what he fears most, and that is being shunned by society. I shall make sure that happens.”
“Do not be too harsh,” she surprised even herself with those words. “So many bad things have already happened. Creating the right circumstances for another one is not the way to rectify things.”
“You are far too kind,” Joseph said, a little taken aback. She could only hope he understood her need to forget all this and move on. “But actions have consequences in life. My cousin needs to learn that.”
“Now, if you will excuse us, Ladies,” Oliver suddenly interrupted, unwilling to delve more deeply into this matter which, according to him, was done.
Yes, he was not wearing his cologne, but Joseph was wrong in thinking Bridget would not recognize him coming. The shampoo he used for his hair was the same. The soap he washed his body with. The very essence that was his being had not changed. His cologne only made him noticeable from a mile away, but his earthly scent, his true scent was perceptible only to those who were patient enough to search deeper underneath the surface. He was a man of many scents. How could he possibly think he could ever hide all of them from her? She smiled at the thought.
“Joseph and I need to discuss something in my study,” Oliver concluded.
“Will you return here… before you go?” Bridget gasped her question. Now that he was here, now that everything had been resolved, she was reluctant to let him leave her side.
“I promise,” Joseph whispered, too close for comfort.
Immediately upon hearing the door close, Bridget glanced in the direction where she believed Sarah was. “What do you think it is they will be discussing?”
Her heart plummeted down all the way to the soles of her shoes. Joseph had gone, but not before the sound of his voice incited those same flames from the dinner party, from the maze, and from the previous evening when he assured her that they would converse regarding… regarding what? Regarding what he had in his possession, of course, what she still considered hers, yet this was an erroneous conclusion. Her heart was not hers any longer. It was his. Completely, utterly, madly and hopelessly his.
It was a secret he already knew. If her mind had the ability to keep this secret, her heart did not; neither did her lips. Without a single word, they revealed the truth. She had fallen underneath his spell the moment they bumped into each other at the ball. That seemed to have taken place eons ago. The heart was not very adept at keeping time.
Sarah’s response brought her back to the present moment. “Well, is it not obvious?” A chuckle followed.
“I’m afraid I do not follow.” In fact, shedidfollow. She followed, she blushed, and she yearned for more assurance that her heart was on the right path.
“Oh, sweet Bridget,” Sarah replied from across the room where she was putting the book back on the bookshelf. It was obvious that no one was interested in reading any longer. Far more fascinating things were taking place. “I would bet my finest hat that the Duke is here to ask for your hand.”
Bridget was surprised at her sister’s remark. “I never thought you the betting kind,” she smirked.
“I would never bet unless I was certain that I would win,” Sarah replied, approaching her sister. “What will you do when he asks? Oh, listen to me, even asking! Of course, I know what you will do!” She giggled as if they were two schoolgirls, unable to refrain from sharing juicy secrets.
“I think you are getting ahead of yourself.” Bridget shook her head. “The question will not be asked. Perhaps Joseph has come to discuss business with Oliver.”
“Yes,” Sarah replied assuredly. “The business of marriage.”
“Oh, you!” Bridget chuckled when suddenly she felt her sister’s arms encircle her into a warm, loving hug.
“You deserve all the happiness in the world, my dear Bridget,” Sarah whispered in her ear. “You just need to open yourself to it.”
* * *
“Shall we open a bottle of port?” Oliver suggested, walking over to his liquor cabinet and proceeding to open the door.
Joseph frowned, remembering Seth’s explanation for his voice. “I think I shall switch to another kind of liquor.”
“Oh, all right.” Oliver lifted his hand towards the upper row of crystal decanters and unopened bottles which demanded someone’s attention. “I have–”
“Honestly, I am not in the mood for anything right now,” Joseph excused himself, circling around Oliver’s writing desk and all the objects on top of it, neatly arrange in one long row. “I wish to have all my wits about me during this conversation.”
One glance in Oliver’s direction assured him that his friend could have guessed what the conversation would be about. Far the better that way. Joseph felt nervous. He tried raking his fingers through his hair, pressing his lips together so they would not betray him and commence talking before his mind had come up with the right thing to say. Because he could not make a mistake and lose Bridget. Not again.
